


I'm Sorry I Couldn't Make It

by MyCanonShip



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- time trave, Arthur is dead, Kind of merthur, Merlin - Freeform, Merlins POV, My First Fanfic, My Own AU, One Shot, ish, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 12:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3381443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCanonShip/pseuds/MyCanonShip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This AU is a bit confusing, but I'm not planing on making this a series (unless I do, ha!) so not to worried. </p>
<p>Merlin is transported to modern times, and he lives in London. Arthur is dead, and Merlin is having a hard time coming to terms with his new reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry I Couldn't Make It

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic to be posted, anywhere really. So it's not a 50k word, epic love story be any means, but hey, maybe one day :). For now, this is what I got. Hope you enjoy.  
> (Also, I put literally no thought into to the title. So yeah!)

Cool air bit at Merlin's cheeks and blew his hair back, nipping at his already frozen ears. The clear blue sky is pale, a seemingly endless chilly space. Merlin was starting to feel the pain of his shoulder strap digging into his neck, and the constant aching over all from cold. He focused on the rhythmic fall and bounce of his feet hitting the pavement. Left right, left right. The ball first then sole.

It's October. Merlin has been living in the city two months.

***

Fog is in the air, all around him, low and heavy. Some would call it oppressive, but Merlin could easily welcome the numbness it brings him. The mist shrouds him as He walks down beside the Thames. It's in his brain and his gut, the smells and sounds get mixed in with the texture of the fog. Everything is floating up in the clear air above, all his worries, obligations and emotions. Gone. Just for the moment.

It's April. London has been Merlin's home for nine mouths. It's still not enough to forget.

***

Merlin sits in his flat. its small but he makes it work. Slowly but surely Merlin thinks he might just get though and move on. He has a life here, and by most people's standards, it's not half bad. He looks down at the paper that will, any time now, become his essay. It's blank, so is his mind. A sigh rushes through his lips before he can catch it. He lets go and his head hits the table.  
"This is pointless!"  
His voice is muffled by the wood.  
How could he have possibly thought living this life would help? The work, the school, the endless cycle of days. They were nothing compared to the years he had spent with him. 

The boy. The man, really. Who in his world was great and strong, wise and caring, he ruled with he's heart and that is what the people of Albion came to respected him for.

But to Merlin, that man was his friend, his hard headed clotpole of a friend. The guy who seemed to think it was perfectly fine to treat his servants like slaves, just after they had finished saving said guys arse for the thousandth time. Merlin couldn't help but smile at that.

Before he could stop himself Merlin said the first word that came the mind.  
"Dollop head" a laugh bubbled up in his throat, but when it came out it it felt more like a choked back sob. That ungrateful little prat, wasn't hard headed enough? Why did he have to be so noble on top of all that. His fist made contacted with the table. He felt his eyes burn, threatening to overflow  
No. He couldn't do this. What was the point of all of this if he wasn't even going to try to move on, to forget.

In this world, Albion was a fairy tail. A story told to children before they fall asleep. In this world Merlin's old reality was just, not.

The Once and Future King.  
His friend, was not of this world. He could never, and would never be. For more reasons then one.

Merlin stands. He's out the door and down the street. Walking, then he's running, and he doesn't know if he will ever be able to stop.

It's been a year.

***

The setting sun had turned the sky a dusty shade of pink by the time he reached the edge if London. Being out here again felt good. For twelve months he had been caught up in the city, its tail buildings side by side, the fog, the lights and sounds. Everything. All of it so alien, it hurt. That was the point, but it still never hurt enough.

Even though the constant throb of noise and people was still there; the overall volume of London still lingering. Never gone. Merlin could see beyond that, a flat land lay before him. It wasn't home, that was for sure, but it was the closest he'd been in a long time. Merlin stood in the long grass, it was all relatively untouched, save the smoke laid like an oppressive blanket over the air. It was cold out here and he hadn't really dressed for the wind but he still felt warm in a weird way. So it was then that he let his mind wander. 

Camelot stood as proudly as ever, even in memory. It turrets and ramparts set in white stone, and Camelot's flag flying proudly atop the highest pinnacle. Looking back Merlin can see he is standing at the edge of the forest. He breathed a sigh, it's home. This close to the castle, he would probably be gathering herbs for Gaius. A sharp pain of longing tore through his momentary bliss, he could feel the walls he had created -cumbersome and crumbling though they were- collapsing in on them selves. His mind was now a broken dam, gushing an endless stream of painfully memory after memory. It is a river, and nothing Merlin could do would stop the currents. 

Merlins eyes flew open, and he sucked in a breath. He's conscious back in the grass and the fog and smoke. All if a sudden standing felt like a task that he knew he would fail. He's hands were shaking, and his chest contracted, closing in on his heart, tightening until Merlin was sure he would collapse. Slowly he raised his hands to his face. Fingers trembling he laid them on his temples. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins. 

Arthur.

"Damnit!" It hurt too much. No amount of distraction could ever let him forget that. Because his home, his life, his friends. That was all gone now, nothing would bring any of them back, and no mater how much he told himself, what happened was not his fault. That there was nothing he could have done, that he didn't fail. It was all a lie. It was a lie he had tried so hard to believe, but you can't lie to yourself. Merlin had failed. He'd failed Gwen, he'd failed Gaius, he'd fail Camelot and Albion, but most of all he had failed his friend. And that he could never, and would never forgive himself for. With all his power, all of his knowledge, and he still had to watch as the light in the eyes of his King. His best friend. Flickered out... He had no idea grass could feel this soft...


End file.
